


Perfect

by sullenhearts



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-07 03:04:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16400141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sullenhearts/pseuds/sullenhearts
Summary: Five Honeymoons Robert and Aaron Could Have Gone On, Costing from £ to £££££





	Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> I swear I'd written in all this stuff about champagne before Aaron came home and validated me entirely ;P

£

“I’ve booked you a honeymoon,” Liv says, handing Aaron back his debit card.

“You’re an angel,” Aaron says, and kisses her hair.

She grins. “Can I have twenty quid?”

“Yeah, go on.” Aaron plucks one from his wallet and hands it to her. “Go on then, where are we going?”

“I’m not telling,” she says, grinning. “You’ll see when you get there.”

“Oh come on… We won’t know what to pack.”

“I’ll sort it out,” she says. “Me and Faith, we’ll sort it out.”

Aaron raises an eyebrow at her. He doesn’t trust her an inch – they’ll probably end up a scabby hotel in Hotten or something – but he’s just not had time to think about it. What with Grace and everything, the last thing on his mind was a honeymoon. But he’d promised Robert that he’d do it, and Robert had seemed so thrilled at the gift that Aaron couldn’t take it back. 

So instead Aaron had asked Liv for help, given her his debit card and told her to book something for the weekend. And sworn her to secrecy. He’s not sure how long that’ll last but what’s Robert going to do by then? Nothing. 

It was worth it. Aaron can now forget about the honeymoon until right after the wedding.

Liv tells him to pack an overnight case as normal, so Rob does the same, and the night before the wedding Liv takes both bags and packs them into the car. Only not just two bags, because she and Faith spend ages whispering and faffing about outside, and Aaron shields Robert from seeing and wonders just exactly what he’s got himself into. 

After the wedding Liv corners him.

“Give me your phone,” she says. 

“What. Why?”

“So I can programme the satnav in,” she says, prising it out of his fingers.

Aaron lets her, just watches while she zooms in a bit and nods. She hands the phone back. Aaron looks at the screen. The postcode is just some countryside up by Hawes, in the Dales, so he’s none the wiser.

“How will I know when we’re there?” he asks.

“You’ll know,” Liv says, nodding. “You’ll know.”

They’re interrupted by Faith, who’s had a lot of champagne and who can’t stop squeezing Aaron and telling she’s so proud of him. Aaron hugs her tightly. 

“Look after Mum,” he says.

“Course, course. I’m on it,” she says drunkenly, and Aaron laughs all his way out of the pub into his car.

“Thanks for this,” Robert says when they’ve set off. “It’s been one less thing for me to worry about, you know?”

“I’m gonna level with you,” Aaron says, reckoning that he’s probably safe enough now that Robert’s signed an actually legally binding piece of paper saying that he’ll love Aaron forever and ever, “Liv did this for me. What with Grace and everything… Liv booked it.”

He can feel Robert’s eyes on the side of his face. He’s anxious for a second but then Rob laughs. 

“Bloody hell,” Robert says. “Course, yeah, I get it. Just… where are we going?”

“No idea,” Aaron says. He motions towards his phone, lit up in its cradle on the dashboard. “She put the postcode in and sent us on our merry way. She packed the car, too.”

Robert turns, starts rifling through the bags on the back seat. “This is all food though.” He sounds disappointed. “Crisps, beer, some marshmallows…”

“No idea,” Aaron says. “I just handed over the money.”

“Alright,” Robert says. “Alright.” He brings a family sized bag of Walkers over the seats and breaks them open. “Want one?”

Aaron takes some. They listen to the radio all the way up through Skipton and Grassington, bickering happily over the songs. Robert’s hand keeps creeping on to Aaron’s thigh, and Aaron keeps touching his fingers when he can. 

The satnav tells them to turn off the road just before Hawes, and then the small town thins to more countryside, just lots of wide open fields and the beck running alongside them on the righthand side. Then they’re instructed to turn left so Aaron does, the road narrowing, edged by drystone walls. A handpainted sign says “Moorland Farm.”

“Huh,” Robert says, sounding impressed, and for a split second Aaron agrees, thinking of a country B&B with fluffy towels and fresh eggs at breakfast.

Then he spots the sign that says “Campsite” and inwardly groans.

He’s going to kill Liv. 

He pulls into a field. Literally, one field. There’s a couple of caravans at the top on hard pitches, and there’s a few tent pitches in front of them. 

They’re definitely in the right place because one of them has a sign tied to the fence behind it that says “Congratulations Mr & Mr!” on it. 

Next to Aaron, Robert has paled.

“This is a joke, right,” he says. 

“Apparently not,” Aaron says, and then he can’t stop himself from laughing. 

“Well I’m glad you think it’s funny,” Robert says. “Do I look like I do camping?”

“It’ll do you good,” Aaron says, still laughing. “You can show your wellies some actual mud.”

He probably deserves the jab to the ribs he gets.

A grey-haired woman is heading over towards them from the direction of the farmhouse behind. She waves, smiling.

“This is a very bad dream,” Robert says. Then he plasters on a smile and opens the car door.

“Hello!” the woman says enthusiastically. “You must be our newlyweds.”

“That’s us!” Robert says. 

“Well it’s an unconventional honeymoon, I’ll give you that,” the woman says. 

“Well that’s us all over,” Robert says. “Unconventional.”

The woman can’t tell whether he’s joking or not. Her smile falters a little. “Well, pull up to your space, anyway. I’ve fresh eggs for sale in the porch behind you, if you’re interested.”

“Fantastic,” Aaron says, leaning across to grin at her. “Thanks so much.”

She walks off, placated, and Robert shuts the car door so Aaron can move up the hill. “Thanks so much,” he mocks. “I’m going to kill Liv.”

“Ah come on,” Aaron says. “It is quite funny. And I did tell her not to spend much.”

Robert side eyes him and says nothing else. 

In the boot of the car they find a bunch of camping stuff; a tent, an airbed, some sleeping bags and pillows. Plus a picnic set and a little camping stove. It’s all been used, Liv’s borrowed it from somewhere. Who knows who from. Faith probably went round the village begging favours. That’s quite sweet. Aaron unpacks everything and then starts to unfold the tent. 

“Is this the first test of married life?” Robert asks when they’re feeding the centre pole through the centre eyelets, or something. “To see how well we cope with this?”

“Either that or we end up in counselling again,” Aaron says. There’s no way this is going to – and then it does. And the thing actually looks like a tent. 

“Hah,” Robert says, victorious over bits of canvas.

Aaron laughs and gets to work pegging it down. 

Once they’re all set up, it’s alright. There’s not much room in the tent itself, but it’s got a porch and the weather’s holding up so far anyway. There’s a couple of those collapsible chairs on the parcel shelf, so Aaron sets them both up and sits down to rest for a moment in the late sunshine. 

“Tea,” Robert says. “There’s water down there yeah?” He motions towards the toilet block, barely half a field away, where they can see a couple of washing up sinks. 

“You’d imagine,” Aaron says.

“Funny,” Robert says, and picks up a small saucepan.

Aaron totally watches him stride away, still in his wedding trousers, thighs gorgeously encased. Only now he’s got his boots on, his lord of the manor boots, which Aaron loves even though he’d never admit it. 

He looks up the field towards the caravans. He’s not sure there’s anyone in one of them, and the other’s far enough away to not hear them have sex later. Right? Right.

Good.

Robert smiles as he comes back up the hill, water sloshing a bit precariously from the pan. He gets the stove lit and then they sit, waiting for the water to boil. Aaron’s getting peckish actually, so he starts looking through the bags of food.

There’s burgers and salads, tubs of those fancy cold rice and pasta things Robert likes and Liv mocks him for. There’s bread and some ketchup, and some crap hotdogs just like Aaron likes them.

It’s perfect. It tastes even better cooked outside and eaten off plastic plates. The sun has disappeared from the sky by the time they’ve finished, but the site isn’t dark and there’s a light over the washing up sinks. They take all the crockery down to wash and Robert splashes Aaron with the hot water as he’s soaking the frying pan.

Aaron gets him back by whipping his bum with the tea towel and is rewarded with a sound kiss.

“Is it too early for bed?” Robert asks.

“You know I think traditional camping bedtime is exactly round about now,” Aaron laughs. “You’ve got to conserve the body heat.”

“Oh definitely,” Robert agrees, nodding seriously. 

They bring everything inside the tent, zip everything closed and then get undressed quietly. There’s a torch which Robert manages to lodge in the roof while they’re getting undressed. Aaron slips into the sleeping bags, which they’ve zipped together. It’s a bit chilly; he’s kept his socks on.

Robert brings the torch down as he gets into bed and then switches it off, making the whole place dark.

It’s a perfect wedding night. It’s a bit barmy and a lot out of their comfort zones, but it’s so perfectly them that Aaron loves it. He falls asleep with his arm across Robert’s stomach and Robert’s arm under him. 

When he wakes up, it’s already light and he’s desperate for a piss. He extracts himself from Robert carefully and shoves his feet into his boots. Outside the grass is full of dew and a horse in the next field gives him an interested look. Aaron picks up his jacket and heads down to the toilets. When he’s done he remembers about the eggs and ambles across to the farmhouse, where sure enough the little porch has a stack of eggs for sale. Aaron leaves some coins and sets off back with a box of six.

He sets up the little stove again and gets some oil in the frying pan. The sun’s already quite hot and someone comes out of the caravan nearest to them, heading to the loos. She calls hello as she passes and Aaron nods at her. It’s already a good morning.

The egg yolks are bright yellow, like the sun, and the fat spits when he cracks the eggs in. He sits down, willing to let the eggs just take their time. Behind him the canvas is unzipped.

“Is that breakfast?” Robert asks sleepily. “A man could get used to this.”

“A man can try,” Aaron laughs, turning to smile at his husband. “You can certainly try.”

 

££

“It’s green,” Rob says.

“So? What different does it make what colour it is?”

“It’s the only green one here,” Rob says. Even he can hear the pout in his own voice. He sounds sulky, like a teenager who hasn’t got his own way. He doesn’t mean to sound this way; they’re on their honeymoon for god’s sake, and he had left it all up to Aaron. So he can’t really get mad about the fact that they’re in Filey. In a caravan park. And it’s raining. And all around are fancy white caravans 

“We’re at Primrose Valley!” Aaron protests. “It’s legendary. We came here a few times when I was little, you know. I thought it was heaven on earth. The arcades, the pool…” 

“Yeah,” Robert says. “But you’re not eight anymore.”

“And you’re a cheeky bugger,” Aaron says. He stops the car and unclicks his seatbelt. “Come on, love. Let’s get unpacked.”

Robert follows Aaron inside. It’s small, but it’s actually not as pokey as he’d imagined. There’s a small but adequate bedroom on the right hand side, with a window that looks right out into the bay. 

“That’s why I chose this one,” Aaron says. “I wanted a sea view…”

Robert nods. “That’s nice, yeah. Really nice.”

Aaron smiles at him and heads back down the steps to bring more luggage in from the car. In front of Robert is the second bedroom, which is tiny, but Aaron’s already plonked their case on it which makes sense. To his left is a kitchen, with a proper oven, and then there’s a big living area with comfy sofas and a gas fire. 

“Oh now we’re talking,” Robert says. The weather’s dropped cold and it’s not much warmer in here. He goes over and clicks the button a couple of times. The fire bursts into life and before long the little space is warm. All their stuff is inside and Aaron’s managed to find a film they both like on Channel 4. 

Before long they’ve both got changed, the little fridge is loaded with beer and food, and the place is starting to feel quite cosy, so while Aaron starts to chop things up to make a lasagne, Robert goes to get two beers. But then – 

“Hang on, what’s this?” He pulls the chilled bottle from the fridge.

“Present from Charity,” Aaron says. “She gave me it this morning, I think she wanted to open it then but I wanted a clear head, you know?”

“I do,” Robert says. It’s a decent bottle of champagne, not the stuff they sell in the Woolie, which will do in a push but which is far from perfect. This is better. And it’s cold. Robert opens the door of the caravan to pop the cork, which lands with a satisfying thunk on the other side of Aaron’s car. 

Inside, he can’t find any glasses. The kitchen is quite well equipped with all kinds of things, but glasses aren’t to be found. Oh well. Mugs it is. Robert pours into them, licks the side of one mug when it threatens to froth over, and hands the other to Aaron.

“Cheers,” Aaron says, taking it. “Very glamourous.”

“You’re the one who brought us to a caravan site for our honeymoon.”

“To Haven,” Aaron says. “With a sea view.” He clinks mugs with Robert and grins. 

The champagne is beautiful. Gorgeously fizzy and cold. “God bless Charity Dingle.”

“Now there’s something you don’t hear every day.” Aaron tops the onions and mushrooms into the pan he’s been heating up. They start to sizzle immediately. 

Robert could go and sit down, watch the film, wait while Aaron assembles the meat and the sauce and the pasta and shoves it all in the oven, but honestly it’s much nicer to stand here, resting against the counter, watching Aaron move from one place to the other. 

This is what he wants for the rest of his life. This steady security, security like he hasn’t ever known before. He wants to watch his husband – his actual legal wedded husband – do boring stuff like cook and clean and play with Seb forever. 

He can’t resist leaning and placing a kiss on the side of Aaron’s neck, just where he’s ticklish.

They leave the lights low while the lasagne’s cooking, and sit side by side on the sofa. The champagne’s gone to Robert’s head and his cheeks are hot, so he’s glad when the food is ready and they pull over the little table to eat. When the film’s finished Robert turns off the telly and they sit in companionable silence, watching the flames dance in the fire. 

They go to bed early. 

When Robert wakes up, it’s half past ten. Thanks to Seb he really can’t remember the last time he had such a lie in. Aaron’s just been in the shower so Robert follows suit, and then they head off to the main hub of the park. 

There’s a small video arcade, which is very nearly empty of anyone.

“Air hockey?” Robert asks, pulling some change out of his pocket. 

“I’ve never lost a game yet,” he says.

“I vividly recall you and Liv playing to the death,” Robert says, feeding a coin into the machine. “God I miss her already, is that weird?”

“She won’t even be up yet,” Aaron says, taking the further end of the machine. “Then she’d come down all stroppy cos she’s missed breakfast…”

“Teenagers,” Robert says, whacking the puck towards Aaron. 

“Yeah, she’s a good one.” Aaron says loyally, defending the shot and sending the puck racing around the table. 

Aaron wins seven to three, which is, Robert feels, a valiant score for himself. They move on to the Mario Kart machine, which Robert hates, but he can’t resist how Aaron takes it so seriously. 

They go from the arcade into the bar, where there’s a bingo game going on in one corner. Over the other side of the room there’s an empty pool table. Aaron heads over while Robert goes to buy them a pint each. 

They’re both pretty good at pool, so Aaron wins the first two games and then Robert takes the next one. He sits down while Aaron is taking a shot, and ends up with an excellent view of his husband’s bum.

“I can tell you’re eyeing me up,” Aaron says from behind his cue. 

“You cannot.”

“Yes I can. Them hungry eyes, Robert…”

Robert laughs. Aaron turns and risks a kiss before taking his next shot. 

Robert thinks Aaron might have let him win that one.

They go for a walk along the beach before it gets dark. It’s windswept, and cold, but the east coast has a certain desolate charm that Robert’s always liked. A dog comes bounding towards them with a ball in its mouth, its owner twenty paces away. 

“Hello boy,” Aaron says, taking the ball. He throws it not far from them and the dog bounds off and comes back, delighted with his new friend.

“We should get a dog,” Robert says. “Seb would like it.”

“He’d love it,” Aaron agrees, throwing the ball again. “Yeah, yeah. That’s a good idea.”

“In the New Year?”

Aaron nods. “I’d check with Liv but yeah…”

“Adopt don’t shop,” Robert says, petting the dog’s ears. 

“Story of my life,” Aaron says with a wink.

The dog’s owner has nearly caught up to them. “I think you’ve made a friend.”

“He’s gorgeous,” Robert says. “What’s his name?”

“Bruno,” the man says. 

Robert takes the ball and throws it down the beach. Bruno goes racing after it. 

“Dropping cold,” the owner says.

“It is,” Aaron says. “Oh, don’t suppose there’s a fish and chip shop close by, is there?”

“There is actually. It’s not far from the car park.” He gives them directions, then looks at his watch. “It’ll be closing soon, though. Winter opening.”

“Best get a wiggle on,” Aaron says, and takes the ball from Bruno one last time. “Thanks mate.”

“No problem,” the man says, and the two of them turn around on the sand to head back to the car park. 

The fish and chips are deliciously hot and crisp. Robert drives them a little way down the road to where the road sits on top of the cliff. The sun’s behind them but there’s still some light reflecting on the water, and a couple of boats on the horizon. With the heating turned up in the car and the hot food to eat, it’s pretty close to perfect.

Aaron gets out to put the rubbish in the bin. “Back to the van?”

“Absolutely,” Robert says. “I’ve got plans for you in front of that fire…”

 

£££

Robert took the whole honeymoon thing in hand. Honestly, he hadn’t had much input on the wedding as a whole, which was fine, because his main requests were that everyone was where they were supposed to be at the time they were supposed to be, wearing a nice dress or maybe a suit, and that was enough, as long as Aaron was in a suit too. Which he obviously would be. 

Robert’s needs are easy enough. 

He couldn’t decide what he wanted to do for a honeymoon. He’d been sitting at work one afternoon, idling over the Thomas Cook website, trying to convince himself to just click book on a week long all-inclusive trip to Egypt. Hot weather, a pool, the beach just metres away – it all sounded perfect. 

But it was like it was too perfect. It wasn’t them. Nothing had ever gone perfectly for them, and that was the way Robert liked it. Not even their previous wedding had gone to plan, but he wouldn’t have changed it for the whole world. He wouldn’t change Aaron – perfectly imperfect ridiculous man – for the whole world. 

So the honeymoon didn’t feel like it fit. So Robert scrapped the idea, closed the tabs, and pushed the honeymoon to the back of his mind for a few days.

Then Aaron said something about Scotland and about the wild coast and how it was “so beautiful”, and Rob immediately knew that that was where they should go. A week on the west coast, in a tiny cottage just for them – now that was perfection. 

So it was booked, and although Aaron kept asking to be told where they were going, Robert kept pressing his lips together and shaking his head. 

“You’ll find out when we get there,” was all he said. 

“You’re no fun,” Aaron said, so Robert stopped to kiss him theatrically in the middle of the supermarket to show just how much fun he was, and Aaron laughed and whacked his arm lightly and agreed.

Robert lets Aaron drive them the first part of the way. They drive across the Dales west and then get on the M6 to go north. After a couple of hours they stop, pulling into a cheesy roadside diner. 

“I didn’t know we were coming this far,” Aaron says, his eyes on the menu in front of him. “How much further?”

“I’ll drive the rest of the way,” Robert says. He’s dying for coffee and something greasy in his stomach. They order and then Aaron leans back in his seat, hands clasped behind his head, looking at Robert.

“We’re going to Scotland, aren’t we?” he says. 

“How did you – I mean no. No, course not.”

“Oh, where then? Carlisle? Come on.”

“Alright, yeah. Scotland.”

“Cool,” Aaron says, and grins. 

“It’s got a hot tub,” Robert volunteers. 

“Now you’re talking,” Aaron says, the grin widening. 

They eat and then Robert takes over the driving, submitting to Aaron’s taste in music from his phone. Aaron’s in top fettle, singing along to all his favourite songs even though he’s off key, and Robert taps on the steering wheel and keeps laughing at his husband. 

They get to the cottage just as it’s getting dark. They got into Scotland in good time and to Gretna Green just fine, but it was a longer trek across the A75 than Robert thought it would be. It was a smaller road than he’d expected, and they’d followed trucks on the way to the ferry port for the whole way. In Stranraer he turns on the satnav to get to the village they’re staying in, near Portpatrick, right on the coast. The cottage is down a single lane road with high stone walls on either side, and Robert crawls down it in case there’s a local coming fast the other way.

The cottage is in the grounds of the owner’s farm, but the main house is in darkness and Robert does as instructed and drives around it to the converted barn they’re staying in. There’s a light on outside and a key safe so they can let themselves in.

Inside it’s all open plan downstairs – a little strip of kitchen and a dining table, and then two cosy couches in front of the TV. On the dining table is a jug with flowers in, and a little card.

“It says congratulations,” Aaron says, opening it. “That’s nice.”

“I did tell them it was our honeymoon,” Robert grins. He opens the fridge and finds a bottle of champagne. “Oh, wow, look.”

“That’s really nice,” Aaron says, touching Robert’s arm.

“Come on,” Robert says, opening cupboards until his finds two glasses. “Let’s take this to bed.”

“Twist me arm,” Aaron says, and goes in front of Robert up the stairs, locking the door on his way past. 

The bedroom is in the eaves of the building, with sloping ceilings and a tiny bathroom just off it. It’s coolish, the heating not yet kicked in, but the bed is covered in dried rose petals and Robert laughs.

“This is perfect,” Aaron says, bending to undo his shoes. “Thank you, Robert. This is perfect.”

Robert opens the slanted window to pop the cork into the darkness outside. “You’re welcome, Mr Sugden-Dingle.”

Aaron laughs and holds the glasses so Robert can pour the champagne. “You’re not going to get sick of saying that, are you?”

“Well, not any time soon, no.” Robert leans in for a kiss. 

“Good,” Aaron says when they pull away. “Good.”

*

They find a supermarket the next day and go a bit wild buying nice food for their holiday, planning some of their favourite dishes and picking chocolatey desserts to go alongside. Robert puts six bottles of champagne in their trolley and Aaron raises his eyebrows.

“I’ve got a taste for it,” Robert protests.

Aaron shakes his head lightly. “It’ll cost a fortune, all of this.”

“It’s our honeymoon, sweetheart. I think we can push the boat out.”

“Give me a pint any day.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll put ‘em back.”

“Well…”

“Oh it’s like that, is it?” Robert teases. “Pretending you’re all beer and muck when actually…”

“I married you, didn’t I? I’ve got champagne tastes.”

Robert laughs and adds another couple of bottles for good measure. Alright, so the bill is more than they’d usually spend in a month, but it’s definitely worth it.

They drop the food at the cottage and then head to the very edge of the country, where the land is volcanically rugged and drops dramatically into the sea. 

“The Giants’ Causeway is just over there, isn’t it?” Aaron says, reaching out to one rock carefully so he can step over a rock pool and on to a flattish bit. “Makes sense this is the same kind of rock.”

“I spose so, yeah.” Robert’s a few steps behind Aaron, eyes on the ground so he doesn’t trip. They’ve come further down the beach than he planned, but it’s not raining and the air feels fresh in his lungs, so he’s not complaining. He catches up to Aaron and reaches for his hand. 

“This is what I needed,” Aaron says. “Some wide open sky and fresh air.”

“And me, I hope.”

“And you.” Aaron puts an arm round his waist, his fingers inching under Robert’s jacket to touch his skin carefully. He takes a few deep breaths and closes his eyes, even though he’s looking out to sea. 

It’s been a difficult few weeks. Robert turns carefully and wraps both arms around Aaron.

“I’m here,” he whispers.

Aaron doesn’t say anything but he does nod into Robert’s shoulder. 

Eventually he straightens up and they walk back to the car hand in hand, slowly. 

*

After they’ve eaten (burgers cooked on the grill and smothered in cheese with jalapenos and onion rings; Aaron’s choice), Robert stretches from his seat on the sofa and stands up. “Come on.”

“Mmm? Where are we going?”

“The hot tub.”

“…Alright.” Aaron stands up too.

The hot tub is on the patio just outside the French doors next to the dining table. It faces the dark fields and sky, not overlooked in the slightest. There’s a light on the patio, which Robert switches on, throwing a somewhat lacklustre beam on to the hot tub. There’s some light from the moon, so it’s probably fine. They both undress quietly near the dining table, laying their clothes across it. It turns out they forgot to pack swimming trunks, so they each strip to their boxers and then head outside.

“Bloody hell,” Robert says. “It’s freezing.”

“It’ll be warm enough in here though,” Aaron says, and moves the lid off the tub.

Steam rises from the water. There’s a bank of switches on the wall so Robert turns the one that says bubbles and immediately the tub swishes and bubbles start to appear. There’s three steps up so Aaron goes first.

“Yeahhhhh,” he says, sounding pleased. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

“Oh, wait,” Robert says, and disappears back inside to the fridge to grab a bottle. He pops the cork outside and they both watch it arc into the darkness. He turns the patio light off, figuring there’s enough light from the moon and from the tub itself for them to see by. He hands the bottle to Aaron and climbs into the hot water. 

Oh god it feels good. Hot and soothing. He can almost feel the stress wash off him as he settles into the bubbles next to Aaron.

“You forgot the glasses,” Aaron says.

“Fuck,” Robert says, and moves to go and get some, but Aaron catches hold of him, laughing.

“Forget it,” he says, and takes a swig from the bottle.

“That’s my boy,” Robert says, and steals the bottle to have a drink himself. 

They pass it back and forth, swishing the water around them, laughing a bit at nothing. Robert finds Aaron’s hand under the water and laces their fingers together. 

Aaron kisses him softly.

Robert sighs a contented sigh and looks upwards. The sky is full of stars. He thought Emmerdale’s sky was starry enough, but this is a whole other level. He thinks he can see the Milky Way above them, a vague banding of light in a stripe across the sky. 

“How do you know that’s what it is?” Aaron says, disbelieving.

“Cos I do,” Robert says. “I just do.”

“Hmm,” Aaron says, but he keeps looking upwards anyway.

A shooting star flashes across to the left, disappearing almost as soon as it’s there, but they both see it, watch it streak across the sky and then go, as if it was never there at all.

Robert squeezes Aaron’s shoulders and feels that he’s not as tense as he was. Exactly why – the wine, the hot tub, the holiday itself – doesn’t matter. He’s relaxed a bit, and that’s the main thing

 

££££

Robert is sitting on the sofa in the back room of the pub, his feet stretched out in front of him, eyes closed. He’s not asleep, no way is he asleep, but he is tired. Seb is teething and hasn’t been sleeping well. Aaron’s been tossing and turning at night worrying about Chas, and even Liv’s been burning the midnight oil, prowling the house at all hours. Robert’s found her sitting on the sofa a couple of times at well past 1am, when he’s been feeding Seb or just rocking him back to sleep away from Aaron. She’s shrugged him off and said she’s fine, but Robert is still now acutely aware of where she is in the house, whatever time it is. It feels like his own body’s barely switched off for weeks. Months, even.

And the back room of the Woolie is one of his favourite places. It’s always warm, for one thing. Even if he’s the only person there he doesn’t feel alone, because you can hear the chatter of punters at the bar and Charity chuntering as she comes along the corridor to get something or to change a barrel. If he’s not alone, he knows that, these days, it’s likely to be someone who loves him who comes in. Aaron, obviously. Chas, which still makes him feel stupidly grateful. Even Faith will sit next to him and tuck her feet up and make him feel like one of the family. 

He’s definitely marrying the whole family, for better or worse. 

“Wakey wakey,” a soft voice says. 

“I’m not asleep,” Robert mumbles, but he couldn’t swear that he hadn’t been snoring a little bit just then. He opens his eyes, wonders for a second where Seb is, and then smiles at Chas, who’s come in.

“Cuppa?”

“Oh, please.” Robert’s still got his jacket on; he hadn’t meant to stay here long, but he’d told Victoria he’d pick Seb up by six. It’s only half five, he’ll have a cuppa with Chas and then go.

“Tired?”

“Must be. How are you?”

“Surviving,” Chas says, smiling brightly. 

“Yeah. Yeah.” 

She automatically has her hand on her stomach while she waits for the kettle to boil. Robert can see her, just around the corner from the sofa, rubbing the bump, her eyes sort of glazed over. Robert’s got no idea how she’ll cope when the baby dies. The thought of losing Seb makes his blood run cold, so he can’t imagine Chas is feeling much different. He wants to go and hug her, but he’s not sure how she’d take it. 

She must feel his eyes on her because she looks at him just as the kettle clicks off. “I’m alright,” she says.

“Mmm, I believe you.”

“Cheeky.” She flashes a quick smile, then busies herself making two cups of tea. She grabs a packet of biscuits and brings them over with the tea.

“You’re a lifesaver,” Robert says, and shrugs his jacket off before taking the mug. 

“Ooh, I know,” Chas says. She sits down and blows on the tea. “Anyway, listen, I meant to ask.”

“Mmm?”

“Where are you taking Aaron for your honeymoon?”

“Oh, god, I’ve not even thought about it. I knew it was a stupid idea to promise I’d book it, but it should be easy, shouldn’t it?”

“Yeah, probably. Where would you like to go?”

“Somewhere hot but not too hot, and with a pool and a sunbed. And a bar.”

Chas laughs. “Spain would be nice this time of year.”

“Mmm.”

“Or Portugal. Mallorca. Ooh, what about Tunisia?”

“Stop naming places,” Robert laughs. “I was thinking Ischia.”

“Where the hell is Ischia? What is Ischia? You’re making this up.”

“It’s an island,” Robert protests. “Near Naples.”

“No one’s heard of that place. Aaron won’t have heard of it.”

“So? I’ll expand his horizons.”

“Least said about that the better,” Chas laughs.

“Careful,” Robert says. He slurps his tea, and takes a biscuit to dunk.

“You’ll have to get it booked or you’ll send up nowhere.”

“There’ll be a deal.”

“Let me do it.”

“What?”

“Oooh, yeah,” Chas says, warming to her own idea. “Let me find it. I love browsing holiday sites, I love looking at all that nonsense.”

“Haven’t you got enough on?”

“Nothing I couldn’t cancel, no. Come on, it’ll be a good distraction.”

“If you’re sure…”

“I am. I am.” Chas’ eyes twinkle. “Come on then, hand over the credit card.”

Robert sighs as if this is all a terrible inconvenience and pulls out his wallet. He hands over a card. “Don’t be spending all my dosh.”

“As if I would,” Chas grins. “How much am I allowed to spend?”

“I want all inclusive,” Robert says. “A grand? Can that be done?”

“I’ll have a look tomorrow and let you know. Ooh, I can’t wait. I’ve got Jet Two bookmarked on my phone, you know…”

Robert drains his tea and stands up shaking his head. “You’re bonkers,” he says, but then before he leaves he leans down and gives her that hug after all.

*

Two days later Chas texts him. ‘I can do a lovely week in Spain if you can stretch to six hundred each.’

‘Done x’ Robert returns, because he did think a grand might be pushing it for all inclusive and he does want to splash out a bit. 

Chas emails some details through later that day. No details of where they’re going, but a confirmation and the flight number. Robert glances at it. 

On his bank statement a couple of weeks later he sees the holiday amount – £1375, fair enough – and then some other amounts, from £80 to £200, from the same website. His stomach drops to begin with, thinking the card’s been stolen, but then he remembers Chas and phones her first.

“Well,” she says. “The thing is I needed to add some bits? Make it special, you know?”

“Mmm, alright.” Robert doesn’t even need to think about the money really. Chas sounds happy and that’s the main thing. “Where are we flying from?”

“Leeds Bradford. I booked you that valet parking thing, they come and meet you. It’ll be fantastic,” she promises. “You won’t have to do a thing.”

“Alright,” Robert says. “Thank you, you know. It means a lot.”

“It’s the least I can do,” Chas says, a dangerous wobble in her voice, and then she rings off quickly. 

*

They arrive at Leeds Bradford airport, pull into the spaces marked with the logo of the valet company, and wait until a man in a hi vis vest with a clipboard arrives.

“Mr Sugden-Dingle?”

“Er, yeah,” Robert says. “That’d be both of us.”

Aaron beams at him as they get out of the car. The man swaps the keys for a token and helps them with the luggage, and then he drives Robert’s car away and they head into the airport. 

They check in at the Jet2 desk and the woman says, “The Alicante gate will be open in half an hour!”

“Thanks,” Aaron says, taking the passports back off her.

They set off walking, upstairs to departures.

“Where is Alicante?” Robert says slowly.

“Spain,” Aaron says. “Costa Blanca, I think.”

“Yeahhhh. That’s what I’m worried about.”

Aaron gives him a quizzical look. “What?”

“If your mother has booked us a week in Benidorm, I’m filing for divorce as soon as we get back. Not from you, you understand, but definitely from the rest of the clan.”

Aaron laughs. “Relax. She’s spent a fortune. Even in Benidorm a fortune buys you _some_ class.”

“She wasn’t supposed to tell _you_ how much she spent.”

“There’s no secrets between me and my mother,” Aaron says innocently.

Robert tickles his ribs and Aaron squirms away, narrowly missing a small child on a Trunki. Her dad glares at them but Robert can’t find anything in him to care because it’s time for their honeymoon.

*

At Alicante airport they’re met by an older man with a huge moustache. He’s wearing long red baseball shorts and a very tight yellow top and he’s wearing a sign that says “Suden-Dingle” on it.

“Nearly right,” Aaron says, and heads over.

He doesn’t speak any English, and his car, which might optimistically be called a taxi, is possibly older than Aaron. Robert isn’t hopeful about them reaching anywhere, Benidorm or not. 

They head north, which is exactly in the direction of Benidorm. Christ knows where they’ll end up. Bloody Chas. 

“It’s alright,” Aaron says. “The old town is really pretty.”

“Everyone says that,” Robert says. “ _Everyone_.”

“Just wait and see,” Aaron says. “Just wait.”

They don’t turn off at any of the exits that say Benidorm. Instead they turn off slightly further north, in Altea. 

“See,” Aaron says. “Totally different.”

“Mmm, alright.” 

Robert doesn’t even care at this point. He’s putting it on for effect and Aaron knows it, Robert can tell by the way he keeps smiling. They’re in Spain. It’s warm, the sea is very possibly just across the road, and there’ll be a pool and alcohol. What more does a honeymoon need?

Then they get to the hotel. 

It’s right on the beach, for one thing. It has a strip of beach all to itself, closed off with white fences. Even from the road they can see people sunbathing on the sand. The taxi driver says goodbye and drives off, and they head up the white marble steps into the hotel. 

“Ahhh, the Sugden-Dingles,” the young man on reception says. “We had one of your mums on the phone.”

“Mine,” Aaron says. “Did she give you a hard time?”

“Not at all. She just wanted everything to be perfect. Which I’m sure it will be.” He puts two keycards into Robert’s hand. “You’re on the fourth floor.”

The fourth floor turns out to be the top one of rooms. Floor five is given over to a sun terrace and a cocktail bar. They trundle down the dark hallway and Robert opens the door. 

To be greeted by a view of the sea. Their room is so close it feels like it might actually be in the sea. The bed faces the huge bay window and in the corner of the bay there’s a massive whirlpool bath.

“Bloody hell,” Robert breathes.

“Excellent taste, my mother,” Aaron nods, and immediately begins sussing out the bathroom (just a shower in there), the TV, and the minibar. 

Robert stands by the window. Below him is the beach, tiny waves rolling gently on to the sand. If he looks right, he can just see the pool glittering. The place is busy, sure, but not packed. 

He pulls out his phone and takes it off airplane mode. It finds a carrier called Mobistar and he gets the text welcoming him to Spain. He sends Chas a text that just says, ‘It’s perfect. Thanks, best mother in law xxxxxx’.

 

£££££

Aaron cannot wait to get on holiday. Actually cannot wait. He feels like he’s been stressed for so long now that his whole body just runs on adrenaline. Sure, there’s been happy bits along the way – their wedding in February, Seb’s birth, for the most part, parts of seeing his mum so happy over Grace – but there’s been so much bad stuff too that he feels like he’s always in a state of high alert, waiting for the next ball to drop. It’s been like this since… Well definitely since Adam left. And now that’s all come crashing down and god knows what Victoria’s going to end up doing. 

He just hopes the wedding goes off without a hitch and that Robert is happy. 

He hasn’t even considered a honeymoon, but then two weeks before the wedding Robert brings his laptop across and sits down next to Aaron and Seb with a sigh.

“Where shall we go?” he says.

“When?”

“For our honeymoon.”

“God, Robert, that’s the last thing on my mind.”

“No, I know, I get you, but we deserve a break don’t we?”

“Maybe… What about Grace, though?”

“We don’t know when she’ll come, though. Do you want to wait until after?”

“No…” Aaron rattles Seb’s toy again. He should be getting sleepy, but his eyes are wide and he’s looking up at Robert like sleep in the last thing on his mind. Aaron might go to sleep instead. He could do with a lie down in a darkened room. “No, I’d like to do it traditionally and go straight after.”

“So we will.”

“But Grace…”

“Alright,” Robert says gently. “Let’s book something, and if we have to cancel it, we’ll cancel it.”

Aaron thinks about that, then nods. “Alright. Thank you.”

“Welcome.” Robert fires up the laptop and clicks to his browser. “So what are we thinking?”

“No idea,” Aaron says. He blows air out of his cheeks. “All inclusive cruise to somewhere warm and beautiful?”

“Mmm, alright then.”

“I’m only kidding.” 

“I’m not,” Robert says. “I’m really not.”

“How much do they cost?”

“I can handle it. I can move some money around, talk to my advisor…”

“Alright, alright.” Aaron rolls his eyes. “Seb, tell your dad he doesn’t need to be Mr Big Shot with us, will you?”

“Mean,” Robert says, sounding almost wounded, but then he leans across for a kiss so Aaron figures he’s safe. 

Robert books it. Aaron keeps saying ‘yes’ to things but he’s not entirely sure what. He’s too tired and he knows Robert’s exacting standards will have them booked somewhere good. 

*

It is, after all, a cruise. A bloody big ship, too. They arrive in Marseilles and board. And Robert hasn’t only booked a cruise, he’s booked a suite in the exclusive part of the boat. They’re greeted at the port by a man in a naval uniform, who takes their bags and escorts them up to their suite. It’s lovely, the bathroom on one side of the door, then a cosy bedroom with dark walls and a huge bed, and then a living room with a big TV on one wall and the balcony. It’s a gorgeous balcony – it’s curved in such a way that it feels like they’re the only ones out there. Sunshine is beating down on it and there’s two chairs and a table, on which stands an ice bucket with a bottle in it and two glasses.

The man, who introduces himself as Rahim and tells them he’s their butler, pops the cork of the bottle and pours two glasses. “Will there be anything else?”

“No, I think we’re good,” Robert says. 

“Press zero one on your phone and it will connect to me, any time day or night.” Rahim nods and them and lets himself out of the suite. 

Aaron kicks off his shoes and socks and steps out on to the balcony in his bare feet. “Cheers,” he says, picking up a glass, and clinks with Robert. 

“Cheers sweetheart,” Robert says, slipping his arm around Aaron.

When they kiss Aaron tastes the fizz of the champagne. 

*

They have a pool up on the top of the boat shared with only the suites up here, so only between about fifteen cabins. Robert and Aaron head there the first morning and find two sunloungers in the sunshine to spread out on. There’s a few other people around and Robert gets chatting to them. He could charm the bee’s knees off the bees, that one, Aaron thinks, amused, with his eyes closed behind his sunglasses. He’s half listening; there’s a young Muslim couple from Dubai who are on their honeymoon too. There’s a Chinese couple who have just got engaged. Robert makes appropriate noises over the engagement ring and then turns his attention to an older lady to Aaron’s right. She’s Scottish, dripping in jewels, and she chats to them nearly all day, even when they all go down to the lounge for lunch. 

It’s much cooler in there and Aaron is glad to get out of the sun. There’s a buffet along one wall with several uniformed waiters standing behind waiting to help. The food is amazing. Aaron takes too much and settles back down with Robert. They sit near the balcony to catch the breeze.

The staff are lovely, and all so attentive. The second Aaron’s glass is empty it’s refilled by a silent hand. Dessert comes on a trolley and Aaron chooses a mint chocolate mousse and thanks the waitress. 

It is lovely, don’t get him wrong, but it’s all so posh, it’s weird. It’s well out of Aaron’s comfort zone. They head down into the casino in the evening, and then to the French bistro to eat. They go back to the room and have sex near the open balcony door, unseen by anyone else, although they both laugh when they think someone might have heard them. The next morning they have croissants and orange juice on the balcony, and then head back to the swimming pool. Rahim is hovering, offering drinks. They eat lunch in the lounge again, and go to the theatre that evening to catch a show. The alcohol flows freely, they make love first thing in the morning and last thing at night, and it is amazing, it’s the holiday of a lifetime, of course it is. 

It's just maybe too fancy for Aaron.

Still, he gets a nice tan. They get off the boat in Naples and eat mushroom pasta in a restaurant where no one speaks English. They get off the boat in Malta and wander along the beach before stopping to drink cold beer in a waterside café. They eat in a bunch of the restaurants, sip cocktails in the ice bar and have a midnight soak in the hot tub. They buy cheesy souvenirs in the gift shop and two huge Toblerones for Chas and Paddy. They pose for cheesy photos and sleep late with the balcony door wide open. 

Living in the lap of luxury is alright for a week, but by the last night Aaron is kind of sick of being fussed over and he just wants to go home. 

“Me too,” Robert admits. “I miss Seb.”

“I miss Seb too. I miss his little face and his little toes. I even miss being half puked on or covered in mash.”

Robert laughs. “I miss being woken up at four am.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” Aaron is bent over their sink, shaving before their last meal. He can feel Robert’s eyes on him from where he’s sitting on the bed. 

“I miss Liv.”

“I miss her too. She’s a good girl isn’t she.”

“She’s the best.” Robert comes over. “So. It’s the last night.”

“I know. It’s flown hasn’t it?” Aaron scrapes the razor over his chin and rinses it in the water. 

“Come dancing with me?” Robert says. 

“Hmm?”

“Come dancing with me. Tonight. We’ve ignored that disco all week…”

Aaron laughs. It’s true, the lounge has had a disco each evening, a glitter ball flashing off the floor, the music geared to older than them but not too bad, he supposed. Each night they’ve been too tired as they’ve passed, so even though Robert’s asked before, Aaron hadn’t thought he was serious. 

But he clearly was. And now he’s looking at Aaron in the mirror looking just slightly pleading – a look that suits him, it has to be noted – and Aaron doesn’t dance, not really, not like Robert means, but it’s their honeymoon and it’s the last night, so he’s going to.

“Alright,” he says, and turns around to dab a blob of shaving foam on Robert’s nose.

*

“You certainly scrub up well,” Robert says when they’re both ready. 

“None too shabby yourself,” Aaron says. “I didn’t know you’d even packed a tie.”

“Of course,” Robert says, and they head out of the cabin together, laughing.

Tonight they’ll eat in the lounge. It’s always a buffet, which is why they’ve tended to eat in the restaurants instead, but the weather is stiflingly hot and they want to be by the breeze not tucked inside. The food is great, anyway. There’s tiny pancakes with horseradish cream, and a whole roasted salmon with fresh vegetables around it. Aaron loads up his plate and sits down. 

“I think they’re called blinis,” Robert says, picking one up to taste it. “Pancakes but sort of thicker?”

“They’re delicious,” Aaron says, and goes back for more. 

The Scottish lady talks to them briefly when they’re drinking their coffee. “You’re good boys,” she says. Aaron thinks she might be a bit tipsy. “Look after yourselves, won’t you?”

“We will,” Robert promises, and drains his cup. “Excuse us, though. My husband promised me a dance.”

They walk away together, into the part where music is playing softly. The Chinese couple are dancing too, their fingers entwined. They look happy; Aaron wonders if people look at them and think they look happy too. He hopes so.

Robert takes his hand. The song is Luther Vandross, Aaron thinks, although he wouldn’t swear to it. It’s upbeat, but Robert pulls him close so they can slow dance. 

“Has it been good?” Robert asks.

“It’s been perfect. Romantic and posh. Bit like you.”

“Oi,” Robert pulls a face, but he’s only kidding and a smile spreads across his features again. God, Aaron loves him. Everything they’ve been through, all the pain and misery and secrecy and lies… It’s almost been worth it to get the two of them here, married, legally married and all of that, with their family waiting back at home and loved ones waiting to see them. Aaron didn’t know life could be like this – sure there’s painful times ahead, ones he knows about and ones he can’t at all foresee, but they’re together, they’ll be together, and that is absolutely perfect.


End file.
